Fang Qian became a beggar and began to wander around the world. In the past few hundred years, he had walked through countless places, but no one could see him, and nothing could touch him.

But just as he forgot everything, became a beggar, and began to grow old slowly, he seemed to be accepted by this world, he began to be able to touch everything that existed in this world, and began to be seen by humans in this world.

But this is not a good thing, it means that he is gradually being assimilated by this world, and the rules of this world are increasingly acting on him, and while he is slowly getting old, he is also slowly dying.

He unconsciously returned to the place where he first appeared in this world, and went to the town where he had broken half of the mountain and was destroyed by gravel.

Decades have passed, and the town has once again restored its former prosperity and peace. Woodcutters chop wood, butchers sell meat, children play, and peace. Even the broken mountain has inexplicably returned to its original appearance.

For some reason, although he had no memory, his subconscious choice remained here.

But whenever he came to the east of the town and near the mountain, he would suddenly see that everyone here would suddenly experience some strange changes.

The previous second everyone was still peaceful and peaceful, and happy. The next second everyone was suddenly covered in blood, his head was crooked, his eyes were tilted, his intestines were chaotic, and his face was full of resentment.

Fang Qian subconsciously frowned. Ordinary people were afraid of being extremely afraid when they suddenly saw this scene, but he quickly returned to peace because there seemed to be only disgust in his subconscious mind and no fear.

He looked at those resentful eyes one by one, showing an interesting look, because this was the first time he had seen such a scene in so many years, and he wanted to see it more carefully and satisfy his curiosity.

A person who knows nothing often has a strong curiosity, and he is like this at this time.

However, soon everything returned to its original state.

People were well-dressed, chatting, laughing, and making fun of it.

Fang Qian was used to such a scene. He lost his curiosity and no longer had the idea of ​​continuing to explore here. So he followed his subconscious dislike and disgust for this place and quickly left here.

He never discovered that in a Buddhist temple not far from him, there was a blood-colored white light that was unstable.

As time goes by, the blood begins to slowly disappear, and the unstable white light is also gradually shrinking.

I don’t know how many years have passed, Fang Qian has become very old at this time. His hair is as haggard as grass, pale and without any luster, his face is full of wrinkles and ravines. He is about to die. Everyone around him says so, so he also begins to think so.

He is naturally going to die when he gets old.

At this time, he had no big idea of ​​death. He just often saw that after a person died, his relatives would set off firecrackers to see him off. He began to think, if he died, would anyone set off firecrackers for him?

He suddenly felt a little sad, so he began to wander unconsciously. When he came to his senses, he saw a strange scene full of blood in front of him.

For some reason, although he has disliked this place over the years, he has always come here unconsciously many times.

So he had long been accustomed to the strange changes here, and even his curiosity at the beginning slowly disappeared.

This time he came here again, but he was about to die, so this time he did not leave, but planned to go in and take a look.

He walked along the street with a very ordinary wooden crutch.

Everyone's resentful eyes did not change at all, but after he walked for a long time, the people here did not recover and still maintained this strange and terrifying appearance.

He walked past a stall where he bought pancakes. The stall owner was a middle-aged man in his forties. At this time, his head was flat and his skull was cracked. It seemed that he was smashed hard by something. Even his overflowing brain could see clearly.

He looked at Fang Qian, with a strange smile on his face and said, "Do you want a pancake?"

He picked up a steaming pancake, which was covered with blood and had some white brains.

Fang Qian rarely eats food, so he is very hungry, but he still did not intend to take the pancake. Instead, he looked at the vendor in disgust and said, "Your pancakes are dirty, I only eat clean food."

The hawker with brain fractures and the old beggar who can hardly walk. This scene is strange no matter how you look at it, it inexplicably gives people a very normal feeling.

Fang Qian coughed and continued walking. He passed by many people along the way. Everyone talked to him with a smile, and he also responded.

If these people weren't all extremely tragic and bloody, they would have looked quite happy.

As he walked, Fang Qian walked to a temple that looked a little dilapidated.

He stopped here, and this was the first time he felt the emotion in this place besides disgust and dislike, which was a feeling of intimacy and joy.

He looked at the ruined temple and murmured: "It should be a good thing to die here."

A young monk walked up to him and asked, "Do you believe in Buddhism? Why do you want to die in a temple?"

Fang Qian looked back at the young monk, and a strange feeling surged in his heart. It was an indescribable emotion. He tried hard to hold the crutch in his hand, stood up straight, and looked at the young monk and said, "I don't know what Buddha is. I just felt happy and did it."

After saying that, he opened his eyes a little wide and looked at the young monk carefully, but found that he could not see the young monk's face clearly. Moreover, he was not like the strange-shaped people around him. He dressed very simply and cleanly, giving people the feeling that he was not touched by the world.

So he said, "You are very different, different from everyone I have ever met."

The young monk said calmly: "The world is different. There are no two identical leaves in the world, and naturally there are no two identical people."

Fang Qian frowned, always feeling that what he said was different from what the other party said, and it was not the same meaning, but he was not confused about this issue. He did not intend to continue talking to this young monk, even if he gave him a very special feeling.

He was about to step into the temple.

The young monk watched him start to step into the temple, and seemed to sigh, and then seemed to chuckle, and then his figure suddenly disappeared from the spot.

In the temple, Fang Qian was stunned for a long time when he looked at the little white light with a very pale blood color in front of him. Slowly, his turbid and old eyes began to become clear and bright, his wrinkled face began to become smooth and fresh, and his dry white hair as dry as grass became black and thick, and even the crutch in his hand turned into a simple and slender wooden sword.

And just after he recovered from his youth, the blood-colored white light completely disappeared.

At this time, he had already realized a lot, as if he had a big dream and suddenly woke up.

He looked at the place where the blood-colored white light disappeared with emotion, and gave a deep gift.
Chapter completed!